


Q&A

by justwhatialwayswanted



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Chaos, Crack, Gen, Youtuber Andrew Minyard, a bunch more characters get mentioned but they aren't really IN it, he's a booktuber and yes this is just as bizarre as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justwhatialwayswanted/pseuds/justwhatialwayswanted
Summary: "As you know, I constantly strive to improve the experience of my loyal subscribers and hate-watchers." Andrew sighed and let his glasses slip down his nose. "Many of you have informed me that you wish to see a Q&A video."Andrew's YouTube channel is, to put it lightly, a masterpiece of chaos. He's decided that his first Q&A video will be no different.
Comments: 60
Kudos: 267





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maisy_daisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maisy_daisy/gifts).



"Hello, book lovers," Andrew said to the camera. He'd tried to have someone else film him, briefly, but for all Nicky's experience with Snapchat stories, his hands got shaky when he started laughing and the footage was unusable. From then on, Andrew had stuck with his trusty pile of books and various other household objects to make a passable tripod.

And, of course, a ring light. He'd been informed by many people that it was absolutely essential.

"As you know, I constantly strive to improve the experience of my loyal subscribers and hate-watchers." Andrew sighed and let his glasses slip down his nose. "Many of you have informed me that you wish to see a Q&A video. For those of you who are not so inclined, let me be the one to share the knowledge that Q&A stands for Question and Answer."

The pocket square in his tweed suit jacket was actually a glasses cleaning cloth, and Andrew took this moment to remove his glasses and carefully clean them before putting them back on. 

He tossed the cloth behind him. Neil and Nicky were back there somewhere doing various strongman poses, or they would be soon. One of them would find something to do with it.

"And because of my constant striving for this nigh-unattainable goal, I have decided to answer some of your questions. As always, if you enjoy this video, absolutely do not subscribe, because there will never be another one like it."

He paused to take a sip of chocolate milk. This time, he'd put a silly straw directly into the carton instead of pouring it into a wine glass as usual. He was wondering if anyone would comment on it. "And now, on to the questions."

The questions themselves were written on a pack of neon orange flashcards that he'd stolen from Kevin for this exact purpose. Allison was responsible for the drawings on the sides that would face the camera. Who knew all that brushwork with cream eyeshadow would make her a decent artist? 

(Andrew had.)

He picked up the first card. This one, he knew, was decorated with several lobsters in different colors of Magic Marker. "The first question is this. What books have made me cry?"

Andrew let his brow furrow before muttering to himself, just loud enough to be audible, "What's a book?" and letting the flashcard fly backwards over his shoulder. "An intriguing first question, although I'm not sure why you would ask me. On to the next one."

This one, he was pretty sure, was the one that had an eerily accurate ballpoint pen rendition of Pennywise the clown on it. "Are you ever going to bring back the French guy?"

Not if Jean had any say in the matter. Apparently, having one chapter of Fifty Shades of Grey read to him by Andrew at seven in the morning was too much to handle. "The Frenchman found that American literature disagreed with his delicate constitution." Andrew tucked that flashcard into his suit pocket, making sure the side with the clown continued to face outward.

Time for another sip of chocolate milk.

He heard wheels squeaking behind him. Hm. Either Aaron was bringing out the whiteboard or Matt had decided to reintroduce the kiddie car to Andrew's YouTube channel. It didn't matter to Andrew one way or another— no matter what happened behind him, he would simply continue to answer these questions. Even if something was set on fire.

Especially if something was set on fire.

Then he heard someone uncapping a whiteboard marker. Aaron, then. Hopefully he'd actually make his diagrams loosely based on what was happening around him this time. 

"Ah, and our third question is in fact about that literary behemoth, Fifty Shades of Grey. What did I think of its ending?" Andrew paused to give that some thought (he had not, after all, finished the book) before he said, "Well, by the time I got to the last few pages, I had fully entered a hallucinative state and was discussing war propaganda with Elmo of Sesame Street fame, but from what I remember it was rather soggy."

Let them make of that what they wanted.

He could hear Aaron's marker squeaking against the whiteboard, as well as hurried footsteps in the back that made him think that Nicky was planning something.

Andrew flung the flashcard backward as hard as he could and imagined it smacking directly into Aaron's head. He wouldn't know what it had hit until he edited the video, of course, but his backwards aim had gotten a lot better over the past few months.

"A-squared plus b-squared equals according to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly," Aaron muttered in a way that indicated to Andrew that he had probably hit his mark.

"Next question," Andrew said. There were only a few left in the deck— he didn't want to drag this out too long and let the others waste all their creative inspiration on a Q&A video. He'd do a part two later if this one got enough attention— there were plenty of other questions to fuel it. "Why did I start this YouTube channel?" He probably couldn't pull another 'what's that' in the same video, so he said, "I was banned from doing this in Walmart. YouTube was the next best choice to spread my message."

More squeaking wheels. Running footsteps, a distinctly Aaron-ish yelp, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Andrew would bet money that Neil had just taken him out with a flying tackle.

"This next one came up frequently," he said as he pulled out the second-to-last flashcard. "Why do all the authors you interview look so similar? Are they just the same person dressed in different outfits?" (They weren't  _ just _ outfits. Sometimes Aaron consented to let Allison do his hair too. Once he'd agreed to contouring, and watching him try not to squirm as Allison put stuff all over his face had been one of the more entertaining experiences in Andrew's recent past. And, of course, they weren't  _ always _ Aaron. He'd flat-out refused to impersonate E.L. James, so they'd had to let a sock puppet, voiced by the wonderfully accommodating Jeremy, do the job.)

Andrew looked into the camera and heaved a disappointed sigh. "Honestly, I spend a lot of time working to find authors who are willing to let me interview them. With how much effort I put into it, I'm a little hurt that anybody could think they were all the same person and that I was hoodwinking every single one of my loyal subscribers and hate-watchers. Not to mention the casual viewers. They're the only people with sense."

He carefully rolled up that flashcard and stuck it in the end of his silly straw. He was going to dump the rest of the chocolate milk into a proper mug after this anyway.

"And now we find ourselves at the nadir of this video, the final question." Andrew waved the card at the screen and pretended not to notice Nicky kidnapping his chocolate milk (although if Nicky tried to steal it from him, there would be consequences). "This one inquires as to whether this is a serious YouTube channel or a satire." Andrew looked directly into the camera without letting his face move a muscle and stared for a few seconds before saying, "This one must have been from a first-time viewer."

He could hear someone writing on the whiteboard again, but it definitely wasn't Aaron— Andrew could just see him in his peripheral vision, pouting at Neil, who, Andrew noticed, was holding his chocolate milk. Good. Neil was the only person here who definitely wouldn't drink it. But with regards to the whiteboard, Matt and Nicky were nowhere in sight, and neither was Kevin, which meant they were all possible suspects.

Well, he'd find out soon enough.

Andrew set down the last flashcard on the side table where his chocolate milk used to be and said, "I hesitate to thank you for those questions. Kindly do not subscribe. If I get any more, YouTube will start sending me money, and I refuse to admit to the IRS that I spend a majority of my work week on this channel. With that, do your best to enjoy the rest of this day. And remember, if the author's last name is Butt, it is definitely worth your money."

He stared at the camera for a few moments to let that sink in before turning it off, and then went to retrieve his chocolate milk.

Another video down, only one a week for the foreseeable future to go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a false start that I eventually realized wasn't going to hit the levels of crack I wanted, so I left it at this and started on a Q&A Video Part 2. Nevertheless, I figured I might as well post it! Enjoy, and I'll have the rest up soon <3

Today, Aaron was wearing Andrew's black turtleneck.

It was a calculated experiment. A few people had started asking in the comments if Andrew had a twin, and while the answer was obvious if they watched enough videos, Andrew couldn't just  _ tell _ them.

No, he had to make them question the very bones of their existence first.

So Aaron was wearing Andrew's navy blue turtleneck and sitting in the armchair they'd gotten from a yard sale and holding a hardcover copy of  _ Twilight, _ and Andrew was wearing a near-identical black turtleneck (he bought them in bulk) and a cardigan with elbow patches and standing just behind the camera. Aaron was also, unfortunately, wearing Andrew's glasses at the moment, but they'd fix that soon.

He turned on the camera.

"Hello, book lovers," Aaron said in an eerily accurate copy of Andrew's usual monotone. "In my everlasting pursuit of literary knowledge to share with all of you, I have decided that today is the day to initiate the uninitiated. We've covered many of the greats— E.L. James, Chuck Tingle, and every 'great American novel' written before the year 1960, to name a few— but you are finally ready to have your eyes opened to a true masterpiece."

He stood up and walked out of the frame, handing Andrew the book and his glasses once he was out of sight of the camera, and Andrew reentered in under a second. Nobody else was allowed to know that they'd had to practice that.

"Now, I don't like to review books about vampires too often," he continued as he sat down in the chair. Today's beverage was the usual chocolate milk in a wine glass, with the recent addition of a silly straw, and the newest change of all: ice cubes. Andrew took a moment to stir the ice cubes around with the silly straw. "They're so derivative. The chief weakness of the vampire genre is that too often, vampires are reduced to brooding heroes whose only purpose is to woo the wilting damsel-in-distress that has the misfortune of being a heroine. In order to  _ properly _ introduce you to the genre, I have had to scour university libraries and used bookstores to find a first printing of the novel that started it all, from which all others have simply become cheap imitators."

He held up the book to the camera.

"Many of you may not be familiar with the name Stephanie Meyers," Andrew said. "In my dissertation I compared her to a shooting star, blazing bright across the sky and gone too soon from this mortal coil. Nevertheless, I continue to educate the masses on this particular underappreciated corner of literature. The original vampire novel."

He was fully anticipating getting angry comments about Bram Stoker and European folklore. And confused comments on whether he'd really written a dissertation on Stephanie Meyers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, this part 2 (and 3) is coming about as a result of my 400 followers celebration on tumblr! if you don't already follow me, and you'd like more content like this and the occasional serious(?) post, hit me up @deus-ex-knoxina!
> 
> -love, birl<3


	3. Chapter 3

"Hello, book lovers," Andrew said with a sigh. "Today we break from our usually scheduled author interview for a sequel to the first Q&A video. Unfortunately, I do believe I have been  _ memed _ . I continue to struggle to find the ideal balance between providing content for my subscribers to enjoy and avoiding receiving any more. Let it be said again that if you are a first-time viewer, you should not permit yourself to become a seasoned veteran of this channel, for my sake if not yours."

Today's beverage was a pitcher of iced coffee, cream, and a healthy amount of chocolate syrup. Andrew picked it up (unfortunately, he had to use both hands to keep it from spilling on his sweater, because cashmere was a bitch to clean, and the velvet jacket wasn't helping matters either) and took a sip before carefully setting it down on the side table. "As you have probably realized at this point, this is in fact a live video, so I will be responding to questions in real time. I will now commence the waiting for questions."

Nicky was in charge of actually watching his laptop screen to see when questions were submitted, so for the time being, Andrew just stared directly into the camera and waited. Renee had shown him a compilation some enterprising soul had made of Andrew staring silently into the camera (sometimes while various Foxes tried to kill each other or cause property damage behind him) set to The Sound of Silence. If anyone asked if he'd seen it, he would deny it to his last breath, but he also fully intended to provide more material for whoever had made it.

Nicky, behind the camera, waved his arms around, which Andrew took to mean that he'd started to receive questions.

He took a look.

"Someone wants to know where I get my clothes." That was an odd one. He couldn't really tell the truth— that it was a combination of vintage stores and Neil having too much blood money and not enough ideas for who to spend it on. (Andrew had thought eighty percent was a lot for the Moriyamas to take, but Neil could easily live on ten percent of what he made and not even care.) "Find a rich person who owes you a life debt. Next question."

A few more questions popped up immediately once he finished that answer. Andrew skimmed them, saw that they mostly contained the phrase 'sugar daddy,' and decided to ignore them. "Someone else wants to know if I am the same Andrew Minyard who is a professional exy goalkeeper. I hate exy. Moving on. How do I choose what books I'm going to review?"

Andrew gave that some thought. 

He sipped from his pitcher of coffee.

"Luck," he said finally. "Next question. Who are all the people in my videos?" 

He could see Nicky silently losing his shit, so Andrew assumed that someone was standing behind him. Possibly multiple people. 

"It varies. Some of them are the unfortunate products of my witchcraft phase. One of them heard me misquote a historical figure in a video once and has followed me around angrily ever since." He could hear Kevin spluttering behind him, which answered some questions. "In reality, there is a large network of people who insist on participating in these videos in the mistaken belief that it will make them internet famous. I hope to disabuse them of this notion over time, which is why I will not provide any other information about them."

There were questions coming in about the guy with the tattoo on his face, presumably from the few exy fans that had somehow managed to find Andrew's YouTube channel. Andrew gracefully ignored them all. "Several people would like to know what happened to the person who got hit when I was ridding myself of my least favorite books. Legally, I am not permitted to comment. Moving on. Ah, someone is commenting on my strong and evident disdain for, as they put it, 'the cishets.' That is not, unfortunately, a question, but I appreciate your attention to detail."

It was really incredible how several people could submit essentially the same question all at once. Andrew scrolled through a few of them, said "Could a heterosexual person do this?" and kept scrolling.

"Yes," Aaron said from the corner where he was sitting and watching whatever was going on. Andrew's filming had become quite a spectator sport— not because of him, because of the antics everyone else came up with while Andrew was talking. Renee was there too today, but she didn't feel the need to comment on the proceedings.

Andrew struggled not to roll his eyes at Aaron and settled for the next best thing. "This next question asks if the person in my videos who bears a shocking resemblance to me is a family member, specifically a twin. No. That is actually the unfortunate product of my witchcraft phase that I mentioned earlier."

Aaron, who was not on camera, was completely free to roll his eyes. Which he did.

"As for whether I will ever comment on film adaptations of books I have reviewed, the answer is no. I refuse to subject myself to that, and you all should too."

Nicky was looking at the laptop screen when Andrew went to find a new question to answer, which was why Andrew saw the precise moment that his laughing switched from dying down to riding a new wave.

Nicky silently pointed at a question, and Andrew read it. And then read it again.

How the fuck did he answer that?

He took a sip of his coffee to play for time, which turned into several sips of coffee as Andrew considered it. He generally tried to avoid answering any questions that ruined the illusion that Andrew was some sort of supernatural being solely put on Earth to read books and create weird YouTube videos about them, but then, he'd already gone and answered the sexuality one, so maybe it was just a lost cause.

"To the person who asked if I am single—" he ignored the sound of, presumably, Matt losing his mind behind him— "I fail to see a single reason why that answer would impact your life. Also, no."

In the corner, Renee covered her mouth with her hand in a way that indicated that she was probably holding back laughter, or shock, or both.

That was definitely enough personal questions for the day.

Unfortunately for him, that was the vast majority of the new questions that were arriving. He'd clearly made a crucial mistake. Also, there were people trying to guess which of the people in his videos he might be dating in the comments.

It was a lost cause.

Andrew sighed, set his pitcher of coffee back on the side table, removed his glasses, and said, "I think that's enough of that. As always, if you are hoping for more content like this, you'd be better off just putting this video on loop and ignoring the rest of the channel. Kindly do not subscribe, and if you really are inclined to perform some sort of clicking-based action based on this video, make it the dislike button."

He ended the livestream just in time for Nicky to genuinely start shaking with laughter. 

"Did someone really ask if you were single?" Aaron said.

"No, I just like oversharing about my personal life to strangers on the internet," Andrew said dryly. "You should try it sometime."

"For the record, I don't participate in these because I think it'll make me internet famous," Matt said. Andrew turned in his chair and saw that he'd unearthed a sparkly feather boa somewhere that was currently tied around his head like a bandana.

"Good."

"I do it because Neil said it would be fun."

"Didn't ask."

"I'm telling you anyway." Matt grinned. "And he's gonna be  _ pissed _ he missed that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much y'all!! the other part of my 400 followers celebration is happening over on tumblr so if you have any prompts you want me to turn into absolute crack, hit me up over there @deus-ex-knoxina :) love y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> you know, it's not often that i finish a work and think 'what the fuck did i just write'
> 
> and this fic does not break that trend whatsoever. i know exactly what the fuck i just wrote. thank you to vivi, elyssa, and maisy (and that poor anon in particular) for inspiring this


End file.
